


Going Home Again

by luvscharlie



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: percy_ficathon, F/M, Fanfiction, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-12
Updated: 2010-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvscharlie/pseuds/luvscharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Fred's death, Percy is needed at home. He really should have informed Millicent before cutting out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gelsey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gelsey).



> Warnings: Tittyfuck, violence (sort of) and smexiness  
> A/N: Thank you redheadsarehot for the super speedy beta job!
> 
> Originally written for gelsey's request at the 2009 percy_ficathon on Live Journal

Sometimes it was about waiting for the smoke to clear… about swallowing your pride, admitting your faults and conceding to go home again. After all the dead were buried, if not figuratively, at least literally, and as wounds began to heal, that was where Percy Weasley was needed… home.

~*~

Percy gave his flat an appraising look and wondered where to start. The basics, he decided internally and pulled out an old trunk from his closet. It was battered with age, the wood no longer smooth, now marred by scratches and dents from its many treks to and from King's Cross and Hogsmeade Stations. He remembered watching Bill and Charlie, each in turn, packing it up before it had been handed down to him. When the twins had gone away they'd needed two trunks, so Percy had held on to this one. He wondered, for perhaps the first time, if this particular trunk ever had been smooth. It had seen a fair amount of Weasleys off to their first day at Hogwarts, and always brought them home again. It knew its place, its duty, Percy thought, as ironically it was to bring him home once more.

A knock sounded at the door and he wondered who it could be. He hadn't told anyone of his imminent departure. Who was there to tell, after all? He'd lost his job; he had no friends to speak of, and the people who might actually care were all at their respective homes or the Burrow wallowing in their own grief for the brother they'd just buried. They didn't have time to worry themselves over what he was doing.

"Who's there?" Percy asked with no small bit of trepidation. No answer. He opened the door a crack, wand raised in defensive measure, to find _her_ standing on the other side. And from the looks of it, hands on hips, mouth turned down, a bit red in the face, it was one very pissed off _her_.

Millicent Bulstrode in all her angry glory.

Most people—most particularly his brothers, wouldn't understand the attraction to a girl like Millie. There was, after all, a bit of a size disparity… in that she could snap his spine like a twig. And there was that personality conflict… in that she would not hesitate, not even for a second, to do so.

"Millie," he said, and put away his wand.

"Well, it's nice to see that at least you haven't forgotten my name."

"Of course, I have not—"

"Shut your trap, I'm not finished talking, Weasley." She pushed past him, nearly knocking the doorknob through the wall in her hasty ingress.

Eloquence was not one of Millicent's strengths. The talents her mouth possessed were not motivated by speech. Percy felt himself blush at the direction his thoughts were taking. Millie on her knees before him. Millie pulling down his zip. Millie taking his cock in her hand, licking her lips, leaning forward and—

 _Thwap!_ Her hand connected soundly with his back of his head.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ for?" Percy stammered… once he had recovered enough to form words. There were times Millicent's penchant for violence unnerved him. Of course, during times of rough sex, it rather turned him on.

" _That_ was because I'm clearly good enough to shag, but not important enough to inform when you plan to move out."

Yes, he had suspected that might be what it was for, but found no reason to give her the upper hand so early on in the conflict. "I was going to tell you."

"When?" she shouted. "After you shoved your cock in me one final time on your way out the door?"

"Millicent!" he gasped in his dear-Godric-I-sound-just-like-my-mother voice. This was crude even by what Percy internally thought of as Millicent standards…and those weren't high. Not high at all.

"Oh, don't you Millicent me, Percy Weasley! You show up in my flat when your cock's so stiff it's about to split the seam of your prissy, tailored trousers, and that's the only time I ever see you."

He was actually rather impressed by her aptitude. Honestly, he'd never really pondered whether she'd noticed the pattern. He'd just always assumed she hadn't. It wasn't that he didn't think she was capable of having deep thoughts—well, maybe it was. Millicent wasn't the brainy sort. She had definitely scored high in the brawn department though. Percy took a precautionary step back.

He still remembered the day she'd moved into the flat below him. She'd dropped out of school, refusing to go back for her seventh year, and taken a job at the Ministry. The hiring standards there during the war had been fairly low… if you had been a Slytherin during your days at Hogwarts then you were accepted. Millicent's father wasn't a Death Eater, per se, but he was certainly in tight with the group, which had certainly upped her employability.

The Minister of Magic had given Millicent the job of Percy's secretary/assistant/keep-a-close-eye on-that-Weasley-boy-person, and secured the flat so she could continue "watching him" after office hours. He wouldn't say it was her eyes she'd kept on him the most, but she did have a way with her mouth. Full, pink, pouty lips sliding up and down the long shaft of his---

He was startled back into the present by Millicent reaching forward and removing his glasses, folding them carefully and setting them on top of the clothes in the trunk that still lay open on his bed.

"Whatever did you do that for?" Percy asked. The act was maternal, out of character.

"It would be a shame to break your glasses when I clock you upside your thick head… again," Millie said, popping her knuckles for emphasis.

His cock stiffened shamefully at the thought of them rolling about the floor, wrestling for dominance—a fight he'd undoubtedly lose, but unlike his brothers, Percy recognised that there was a time losing really meant winning. He'd give in when she straddled his waist, her curves enticing him as she pinned his arms above his head, leaning over him so that the fullness of her tits jiggled just beyond his nose. If he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, he could dampen the white shirt she wore, bringing her nipple to a hard, dark point beneath the fabric. She'd gasp when he…

 _Splat!_ Millicent's fist slammed soundly into his left eye. He staggered backwards in pain, his eye immediately swelling up.

"That's what you get for packing up to leave and not telling me. Who do you think you are anyway? Don't you know the rules?"

Percy's ears perked up at this. "There are rules?" He rubbed his wounded eye as he asked.

"Of course there are. I'd think a prude such as yourself, Mr. Former-Head-Boy who deducted more than his share of house points from me, would know that there are rules for everything."

He had to give her credit for this insight. He hadn't thought she had this in her. Millie was more a rule breaker than a rule maker—or even a rule acknowledger when you got right down to it. Rules and Millie were like Professor Snape and a good cream rinse, not simpatico.

"Well, you ignorant—"

"I'll beg your pardon, madam! I may be a lot of things, but I am not, under any circumstances, ignorant." Percy puffed out his chest in proud peacock fashion.

Millie sat down on the corner of his bed. Her voice was nonchalant as she responded. "Oh, you certainly are ignorant. A right moron if the truth be told."

"How dare you!?"

"I dare."

Percy pointed his finger in her face and then toward the door. "Get out!" He no longer cared to listen to her theory on rules, and it was a shame, as he'd actually been interested in hearing her ideas. But no one, not even Millicent Bulstrode would get by with calling him—Percy Weasley, former Gryffindor Prefect and Hogwarts Head Boy, as well as Junior Under Secretary to the Minister of Magic himself—not that he really earned that title—but he was getting off track. That was not the point. The point was that Percy Weasley was no moron, and no one had better ever think otherwise… or they would no longer be welcome in his flat…the flat he was about to no longer occupy, but…erm… really, there were times he needed better consequences for those who defied him.

Millicent yawned in her lack of concern. "Calm down, prissy-pants. You know you want to hear what I have to say about your precious rules."

"I'll have you know, I do not." He did, but that was no business of hers. He crossed his arms and looked pointedly anywhere but at her.

"Hmph. Well, I'm telling you anyway. The only people who get to just exit a girl's life after he's been sharing her bed for the past several months are people who are far cooler than you. Your brothers, for example."

He uncrossed his arms and glared at her from his one good eye. "Bill and Charlie, Bill and Charlie. That's all I ever hear. Well, I'll have you know that I'm tired of being compared to my older brothers." Percy took a seat in a chair across from her.

"Oh," she said, casually rifling through his suitcase. "Well, that's good because I was referring to your younger brothers. The twins."

"The twins? Those buffoons? What do they have that I don't—" And for a moment, he'd forgotten. Millie's presence had made him forget the reason he'd been going home and what had been eating him up inside since the Battle of Hogwarts. He cleared his throat and turned his head. "Yes, I suppose they are—were far cooler than I."

"So that's why you're going home? I suspected as much."

"My mother's beside herself with grief. My father's dealing with it in his own way, I guess, and Charlie has to return to Romania soon. That's where I'm needed. At home."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit of a mummy's boy?"

"I grew up with five brothers," he replied, his voice dull.

"Yeah, good point. I suspect that bit of name calling might have come up over the years." She paused for a moment, then continued. "I'm sorry. That was meant to lighten the mood, and it fell rather flat, didn't it?"

Percy couldn't stop himself from smiling. For all her brashness, Millicent meant well. "It's not your fault. It's mine. All mine." His voice trailed off, and he dropped his head into his hands.

She must have crawled toward him because she touched his hand and when he looked up, she was on her knees before him, her hands on both of his thighs. "If you had only told me," she said, "perhaps I could have offered you some small bit of comfort." She stroked his face with the back of her hand.

He pointed at his injured eye. "When I think of you, and perhaps I'm judging too harshly, but I don't think so, comfort isn't exactly what comes to mind."

She dropped her head in shame. "I can't help but lose my temper sometimes. I try not to, but really, I mean, it's all your fault."

"It's my fault you punched me in the eye?" Percy exclaimed. "Do go on. I can't wait to hear your rationale behind this bit of logic."

"You just make me so furious that sometimes I can't help myself."

"And you wonder why I don't think of you when I need comforting?" Percy would have gone on, but Millie raised herself up on her knees and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. "I may not do this in any way that is conventional, but never doubt that I can make you forget all of your problems, Weasley… even if, but for a little while."

"As long as your means don't involve knocking me unconscious or sending me to St. Mungo's on a stretcher, I might be interested in a demonstration." Percy watched as her eyes darkened with passion.

"I can't make you any promises, Percy. Do yourself a favour and take a chance." Her voice lowered to a sultry whisper, and she took his face between her palms. Her hands were soft, as were her lips when she kissed him, pulling his lower lip between her teeth. "Are you game, lover?"

Percy might have answered, had her hand not reached forward to cup his balls, cutting off any train of thought he might have once had. He leaned back, his head pressing against the wall as Millicent lowered the zip of his trousers. He raised his hips to accommodate her as she wiggled both trousers and pants down past his hips.

She took him in her mouth, pretty pink lips working their way up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm. And as much as he wanted this, Percy decided that he wanted more. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off him.

"You know I hate it when you do that!" Millicent shouted.

Her aversion to having her hair pulled was no secret. Percy simply grinned at her, pointed at his eye and said calmly, "Perhaps I'd like a matching set."

"That's a bloody good way to get one!" Millie replied.

Percy grabbed the lapels of her blouse and ripped, sending buttons scattering across the room with resounding tings as they bounced across the hard wood of the floor.

"Do you have a death wish, Weasley?" She stopped short and the look on her face said it all. She'd hit the nail on the head and she knew it. "I'm sorry, Percy. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean—"

Percy pressed a finger to her lips to quiet her. "It's okay. Maybe I do. At least if I were dead, it wouldn't hurt so much… and I'm not talking about my eye," he said with a slight grin. He moved away from her and she grabbed for his arm.

"Percy, please."

He shoved the trunk from the bed and sat down upon it then crooked a finger at her beckoning her forward. "Tell me you want me," he whispered across the distance that she was slowly closing between them.

"I do," Millie replied, her voice no louder than his. "I want you, Percy. Tell me how to make it better. Tell me what you need from me."

She came to stand between his knees and Percy used his wand to vanish away their clothes. He spent a bit of time just looking at her. He loved the fullness of her body, the sway of her curves and heavy feel of her breasts as he palmed them. He slid his tongue over the nipples, bringing them to hard points in an instant. "I want these. I want to slide my—" Oh, who was he kidding. He wasn't good at this. Dirty talk or smooth bedroom personas were more Charlie's forte. He cleared his throat and felt the blush creep up his cheeks.

But Millie knew. She lay back on his bed, and pressed her full tits together, then tilted her chin at him in a welcoming manner. Percy straddled her chest and used his wand to cast a lubricating charm, then slid his cock between her beautiful breasts.

She squeezed her breasts together, brushing her fingers back and forth over the nipples as Percy thrust his cock into the valley between them, over and over again, saying her name as he spilled over her chest and chin.

He fell down beside her on the bed exhausted and used his wand to clean them up, then gathered her to him as the sun began to set outside the window.

After a few moments, as their breathing slowed, Millicent spoke. "I'm going to miss you. I'll even miss your prissy whistling as you leave for work in the mornings."

"I'm not sure it's possible to whistle in a prissy fashion."

"Trust me, it is. And you do."

She rarely showed vulnerability and Percy found it unnerving. What he found even more unnerving than her tone was the realisation that he shared her feelings. "Millicent," he said, raising himself up on an elbow, "would you—well, would you like to come with me? I mean, not to live or anything—not yet—I mean, not that I don't want—It's just---wow, I'm royally fucking this all up."

"Are you asking me to come meet your family?"

Percy breathed out a sigh of relief that she understood. "Yes."

"I somehow doubt your mother would find me a suitable girl for her beloved boy."

"Please," Percy said with a chuckle. "My mother will be so relieved I'm not gay and there might be grandchildren in her future, that she'll be elated to meet you."

Millicent balled her fists. "So the only reason I'm acceptable is because I'm female and not a bloke? Is the word flattery even in your vocabulary, you moron?"

"You're going to black my other eye now, aren't you?" Percy asked, cringing away.

"I'm considering it."


End file.
